


Breakfast in Bed

by glim



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Common Cold, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9142507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: "You have a cold," Viktor confirms. "And I have breakfast for you."





	

Though sunrise is still an hour away, one glance outside the bedroom window tells Viktor that the morning is clear and cold, with new snow on the ground once more. He slips back to bed when Yuuri murmurs something into the pillow and leans down to nuzzle a kiss into Yuuri's hair. 

"Go back to sleep."

"...mn?"

"Sleep. I'll be back soon." 

But Yuuri's already asleep, snoring softly into his pillow, the quiet, stuffy-nosed sort of snoring that only started last night after a day of coughing and sniffling, and reaching for Viktor's pillow to hug against his chest. Viktor touches the side of his face, strokes his hair, and even leans back in close to kiss him again. 

If he didn't expect to find his boyfriend in the same place when he returned, then Viktor would be tempted to burrow back beneath the blankets and wrap himself around Yuuri. It's early, though, early enough for the shops he needs to be open, but also early enough that Yuuri will sleep through his errand-running, and will probably sleep until Viktor wakes him up. 

So Viktor savors the quiet, close moment, presses his face into Yuuri's hair, and says something quiet and soothing when Yuuri coughs in his sleep.

*  
As predicted, Yuuri's still asleep, though more restlessly so, when Viktor returns. There's some more coughing, loud enough that Viktor can hear him from the kitchen, and often enough that he's tempted more than once to go back to the bedroom before he finishes breakfast. 

He gives in only when the tea is finished brewing and he can carry the tray back to the room with him. Viktor watches Yuuri for a minute, carefully places the breakfast tray at the end of the bed, and sits down next to him. Yuuri has his face half-buried in one pillow, his arms around another, and all of Viktor's pillows pushed off to the side. 

When Yuuri stirs and reaches towards the bedside table, Viktor catches his hand and stops him. 

"Vitya, no, my glasses..." 

Viktor draws Yuuri's hand to his chest, then to his mouth and kisses the palm. "You don't need them." 

"Yes, I do. To see," Yuuri says, but he sound so sleepy and congested that even in those few words, Viktor can hear how he really is under the weather. 

The only thing the protest does is convince Viktor kiss Yuuri's hand again and nudge him back down onto the pillows. He voice is low and rough, and at the back of each of his words, there's that stuffy little catch that makes it sound like he needs to cough or sniffle. 

He ends up doing both in the time it takes for Viktor to lie down, facing him, and he flushes adorably pink when Viktor touches his nose to Yuuri's. 

"Noo..." 

"Stop saying no," Viktor says. He smiles when Yuuri turns aside and sniffles again, trying to get him to look back at Viktor. 

He turns his head into his shoulder instead, coughs, and says, "I have a cold."

"You have a cold," Viktor confirms. "And I have breakfast for you. Sweet tea, with cinnamon and cloves, and eggs, and bread. Fruit, if you like." 

Yuuri rubs a hand over his face, then turns back to Viktor and curls in closer to look at him. "That's... a lot of breakfast. Did you go out?" His voice goes thin and faint for a moment, and he turns aside to cough again, and lets out a sigh when Viktor rests a hand on his side keep him close. "You're going to catch this." 

"No. Well, maybe so." Viktor nestles himself into the warmth of the bed and uses the end of his nose to brush the hair from Yuuri's forehead. "There's new snow outside, and it's still so clean and fresh." 

"You went out, then?" Yuuri asks again, and this time he's the one to tug Viktor in closer when he nods. 

"I've been home long enough to make breakfast." 

"... don't care. Come warm up," Yuuri murmurs. He gives another little cough, and then another, and then buries his face in his shoulder to sneeze. 

"Bless..." Viktor's hand rests right at Yuuri's waist, thumb stroking his skin through the soft t-shirt, and only stills when he feels him tense again. 

There's another muffled sneeze, and then a third, and finally a small sound that's probably supposed to be one of relief, but it just sounds stuffy and tired. When Yuuri finally raises his head from his shoulder, he's all bleary eyes and pink nose and that marked sort of tired that only seems to write itself over his face when he isn't feeling well. 

"Bless you," Viktor repeats and leans in to press a kiss to Yuuri's forehead. It's not anxiety he feels twinge in his stomach at the tired sound, but it's something very like it. He has to be sure. "You don't feel too warm... Just a cold?"

Yuuri nods. "Just a cold. You feel nice." 

And Viktor cannot help but melt at that small statement, his body curving around Yuuri's and tucking Yuuri into the warm space. They only manage a few minutes before there's another round of coughing and sniffling, and Viktor nudges Yuuri to sit up against the pillows he stacks at the head of the bed. 

"Now you should have tea. And breakfast, and then medicine, and more tea. And maybe a nap after we--" 

Yuuri laughs, and of course, that makes him cough, and coughing makes his nose run, and he has to pull at least a half dozen tissues out of the box Viktor drops into his lap. 

"What? You're too full of cold to find anything that funny." 

"You have a schedule for everything." 

"No, no, it's not like that." 

Yuuri peers at him over the edge of the tissues and shakes his head. His hair is rumpled, and he still has that all-over tired look about him, muzzy and bed-warm. There is something so endearingly different about this moment compared to all the other small vulnerable ones Viktor has had the privilege to witness that he cannot help but slip his arm back around Yuuri. 

"It's not like that," he murmurs. "I just want to give you things to help you feel better. Tea, and medicine..." 

"And you?"

"Mmn. Yes?"

"Yes." 

"What else?" Viktor nudges his feet and legs under the blankets, and pulls the breakfast tray in closer to the both of them. "You should tell me, what helps you feel better when you're sick." 

Yuuri smiles at the breakfast tray, then, more shyly, at Viktor and shrugs. He starts to answer, stops and looks uncertain, then turns his face into the crook of his elbow for another round of sneezing. This time, Viktor pulls a handful of tissues from the box and passes them to Yuuri before he finishes. 

And this time, when he does finish, there's a true sigh of relief as he slumps back against Viktor and the pillows. 

"Sorry." He crumples the tissues, casts them aside, and lets Viktor hand him another. "Can I have my glasses, though? And my phone."

"I don't think 'phone' and 'glasses' answer my question. Maybe the glasses..." Viktor takes them from the bedside table, unfolds them, and passes them to Yuuri, then relents and hands his phone over, too. "Well?" Viktor gives Yuuri his tea next, and an expectant expression with it. 

"Oh. I..." He takes a few sips of the tea, thinking. "I'm not sure? I usually take cold medicine and sleep a lot." 

"You," Viktor says, not without a quiet kind of tenderness, "spent too much time on your own taking care of yourself." 

Yuuri turns aside, sniffling a little, and gives another shrug, dismissive, and not a little shy. He hides his face in his tea as Viktor strokes his back, but leans into the kiss Viktor presses to his shoulder. 

"I'll look after you now. I'll sit with you, and Makkachin will sit with you, and when you want to be alone you can rest in here, and I'll go into the sitting room. We can watch a movie, and have a hot bath..." 

"Oh. I'll... I'll probably still end up falling asleep on you lot." 

"Of course you will. And I'll give you tea when you wake up, and medicine when you start feeling like you need more. I'll keep a schedule if you like?"

"No... you won't need to do that. I'll remind you." 

"I'm sure you will... Sniffling at me endlessly, or something like that." 

That dissolves the shyness and tension, and Yuuri curls himself in against Viktor. He reads his morning internet while Viktor takes a picture of the breakfast tray before they eat, but pushes Viktor away when he tries to snap one of them. 

"Embarrassing," he murmurs. 

"You manage embarrassing on your own without me or a head cold." He holds the phone up, then drops it into his lap. "Nevermind. I'll document our day off without taking any pictures of us." 

"... don't believe that at all..." 

Yuuri presses his face into Viktor's shoulder and while he probably does sniffle against him, Viktor promises no pictures until he's showered and less bleary looking, at the very least. 

Except, really, he won't take any pictures, none at all, until Yuuri looks less bed-rumpled and weary, less pink around the eyes and nose, and less prone to curl in on himself with a fit of coughing of sneezing. Not because Viktor deems any of that inherently embarrassing, but private, and he will keep them and Yuuri close to him as long as he can.


End file.
